Not Like It Used To Be
by HPhillips0729
Summary: Regan has been on her own since just after the world went to shit. She's learned how to take of herself while avoiding people and herds of walkers. She lets her guard down one evening to enjoy a rare moment in nature and lives to regret it.
1. Chapter 1

Another rainy day.

Fuck.

It never rained this much before, Regan thought. Or perhaps, before the world went to hell, everyone was so distracted by bullshit, when it did rain like this, no one really cared. She shivered and silently cursed. She needed to find shelter, and soon. It had been raining for 5 days straight. Some of the major roads were starting to flood. Reaching into her coat, she pulled out a plastic bag, containing a map. Pulling her tarp further over her head, she peered at the map. She couldn't stay in the tree forever.

Hm. Southwest of DC, but is DC worth the risk? Perhaps I should take the long way around.

There could be a plethora of supplies in DC. It could also be completely overrun with the dead. Either way, she couldn't stay where she was. Time to get moving. Putting the map back into her coat, Regan looked down from atop the tree she was perched in. No signs of any dead around. Nothing but an empty road, trees and rain. She began her decent down the tree to the wet ground. The water was over the top of her feet. Regan sighed and adjusted the heavy pack under her tarp and made her way to the road to head east.

A few hours and miles later, Regan began to see signs of previous civilization. More cars started to show up on the sides of the roads, light poles, and finally some housing. The rain still continued its onslaught, but luckily, this small town didn't seem to be washing away anytime soon. Regan made her way, cautiously to the small downtown area to scout for supplies. The usual places; hardware store, grocery, pharmacy and-jackpot. A gun store. No doubt, mostly cleaned out, but worth taking a look at anyway.

The town seemed to be completely deserted. No dead, no living, nothing.

Never let your guard down. Never let your guard down. Never let your guard down.

First in her path was the pharmacy. The front windows were still intact, and the front door was locked. She turned down the side of the building and made her way to the back to see if there was another way in. The back door was padlocked, but there was a fire escape that led to some windows on the second floor of the building. Stepping on the lower step, she tested the stability. It seemed to be ok. Taking it slow, she ascended the ladder to the balcony. As quietly as she could, she pulled the ladder up to secure the fire escape. Just as the ladder clicked into place, the rain began to pour down, adding weight to Regan's already heavy burden on her back.

Please let the window be open.

Pushing up on the window, it slowly slid open.

YES!

However, excitement was replaced by the horrific rotting smell. Since Regan had been outside for more than a few weeks, and with the rain, she had almost forgotten how horrible the smell of the dead are. Inside was a small room that was furnished with a small bed, book shelves with a lot of medical books and a desk. At the desk was where the smell was emanating from. The body of a man, missing a good deal of the back of his head, sat, slumped in the chair. Regan spied the gun just hanging out of his hand near the floor. She rolled her eyes and climbed inside. She hurried to remove her pack on the floor and made her way to the desk. Thankfully the body was on a rolling chair. Getting it out of the room would be a little easier. She wheeled the chair over to the window. She quickly patted down the body to make sure there wasn't anything of use.

A lighter, some smokes, a flask and a few .410 shells. Turning, she saw the gun on the floor was a Judge. Nice, she thought. Setting the items aside, she moved to dump the chair out the window, causing the body to flop over the window sill. She moved aside the chair and flipped the legs out the window as well. She slid the window down and locked it promptly. As much as she wanted to just crawl into that bed and sleep, she knew she had to secure this place first. She quickly checked the other window in the room. Already locked.

She picked up the revolver off the floor and checked to see if it was loaded. Only 1 expensed shell. She removed it and replaced it with one she found on the body. Moving to the door, she saw it was locked from the inside. Not knowing what to expect, Regan put the revolver in her waistband and pulled a pair of 7 inch shears from her hip. She unlocked and slowly opened the door. There was a stairway that led down. It was dark with the exception of some gray dingy light coming from the outside at the bottom of the stairs. Regan turned back to her pack on the floor. She opened it and located her faraday flashlight. Giving it a good shake, she turned back to the door and stairway. She flashed the light down the stairs to see them clear. Just dusty. She quickly turns off the flashlight and puts it in her pocket. She quietly makes her way down the stairs to another small hallway. Two doors, one on each side. One says "Restroom", the other "Employees Only". The hallways appeared to go out into the pharmacy.

Regan approached and tried to turn the handle on the "Employees Only" door. Locked.

Maybe the keys are upstairs, she thought, I'll come back and check in a bit.

She turned and slowly walked into the pharmacy. There is a big metal shudder that has the pharmacy locked up tight. Regan assumes that's where the "Employees Only" door may lead. For the most part it appears to be picked over pretty well, but not completely empty. She gathered up a few items for barter; a few bars of soap, some travel bottles of shampoo and conditioner, some hard candies and more cigarettes. She kept a few luxury items for herself; disposable razor, a bar of soap and a bigger bottle of 3 in 1 hair and body wash. They would probably end up as barter items, but she hoped that maybe someday soon she could feel a little luxury again. With the items in her arms, she ascended the stairs, dumped them on the bed and decided to look for any keys. It would be safer to just unlock the door instead of trying to pry or break the door down, potentially bringing the dead to her doorstep.

Turning her attention to the blood and brain matter spattered desk, she began rummaging around papers and in drawers to try and find a key. She grimaced and made a mental note to clean the desk off later. In a small drawer, she noticed the bottom of the drawer seems short in comparison the front. Pushing on the front part of the bottom of the drawer, the piece of wood covering the bottom flipped up.

Success!

She took the wood out and located a small ring of 4 keys. They're all labeled. "Pharmacy", "Safe", "Gun Store", "Home". A low rumble outside drew her attention and she noticed it started to get darker. A flash of light and a loud crack of thunder pierced the sky. There would be no wondering around the rest of the day. The day would soon end and it would not be smart to wonder around in the dark in an unfamiliar town. She took the keys and made her way back downstairs to the pharmacy door. She gently knocked on the door, and put her ear to the door. No groans and scraping sounds are heard on the other side of the door. She takes the keys, unlocked the door and slowly pushed it open. A wave of euphoria spread as she spied the contents in the room.

Not only was the pharmacy seemingly fully stocked with medications, but there were also first aid supplies, a few cases of bottled water, 5 gallon jugs of water, 4 boxes of MREs, too many boxes of ammunition to count, 4 rifles, 2 hand guns and some other miscellaneous materials. Including candy bars.

"Oh thank the sweet baby Jesus, " Regan whispered to herself. She immediately grabbed a chocolate candy bar. She opened the candy bar and takes a bite. It's a little stale, but oh so heavenly. She hasn't had a chocolate bar in so long. She had almost forgotten what chocolate had tasted like. This was cause for a little celebration. But first, she decided it would be best if these supplies were best kept upstairs with her.

* * *

A couple of hours later, Regan sat on the bed, exhausted. It was dark now, but the tiny space was dimly illuminated by a candle she had found in the bathroom. She had managed to move all of the food, water, first aid supplies, ammunition and guns upstairs. She had grabbed as much of the pain killers and anti-biotics as possible. She had located the safe under a couple of floorboards and put the most of the medication, some ammunition and one of the handguns in the safe. She managed to locate a stack of buckets as well. Some were now sitting on the balcony collecting water from the continuing storm. She had the contents of her pack neatly organized on the floor to do a full inventory.

After she had assessed her inventory, she longingly looked at a gallon of water.

It's been a while since I had a nice scrub down.

She grabbed a folded washcloth off the floor, a bucket and one of the gallons of water and sets up a makeshift bathing station on the now cleaned off desk. She removed her grimy clothing and tossed them aside into a pile.

I'll deal with those later.

Before she started to bath, she took a moment to examine herself in the mirror she took from the bathroom downstairs. She has bruises and cuts over most of her body.

Living in the wild will do that to you.

She took note that she has lost weight as well. She knew she had as her clothes didn't fit as well as they used to. But being completely devoid of clothing really put in into perspective. She scoffed and picked up the washcloth, pouring a small amount of water from the gallon onto the washcloth. She took the damp cloth and removed a majority of the "life in the wild" from her body. She rinsed and re-dampened the washcloth, but this time she took the bar of soap and lathered up the washcloth. She scrubbed until her skin was pink through the suds. She left the suds on her body and grabbed the gallon of water. She tilted her head over the bucket and poured to wet her hair. Thankfully, there wasn't' much hair to get wet. Long hair wasn't something that was practical in this world. She grabbed the 3 in 1 from the desk and took a small amount to her hair. Being clean felt normal and soothing. She reached for the washcloth and gallon again to rinse, but stopped. She hadn't heard thunder for a while, or saw lightning. But it was still pouring rain. She walked over to and peered out the window. It was pitch black out. If the living were around, there would be some signs of life-lights or fires or something.

"Fuck it," she said aloud. She unlocked and slid the window open. The rain drops on her bare skin were exhilarating. She climbed out onto the balcony and let the pouring rain rinse the suds away. Never would she ever have done something like this before the world went to shit. Standing there naked in the cold rain. She rubbed her hands through her hair and body to help remove the suds and soap. She smiled, enjoying this private naughty moment. A flash of lightning lit up the sky, and made Regan jump. Another thunderstorm seemed to be rolling in. She frowned and turned to go back inside. Thankfully, she was completely soap and suds free. She reached for the spare set of clothing on the floor and puts them on over her wet body. What she wouldn't give for a hot towel.

Regan finished her night with washing her clothes, re-packed her back and secured the windows and doors. She put her shears and a 9mm hand gun under her pillow. Locked and loaded. She blew out the candle and finally laid down. It felt amazing to be clean and in a bed. She smiled as she closed her eyes, reminiscing on her private moment with nature on the balcony.

But it wasn't as private as she had thought.

* * *

A few miles away, someone had gotten bored. It had been raining for days and no one was allowed to leave The Sanctuary when it rained like this. Cabin fever was starting to hit. He strode over to the window and peered out his telescope. Nothing interesting seemed to be happening in a neighboring town. Just a few walkers here and there. That place had been deserted for a good long while. Time to go scope it out.

A flickering of light caught his eye. He zoomed and focused the lens of the telescope. Sure enough, there was a dim flickering of light peeking through a break in a window curtain. He can see movement too. A long slender leg, glistening in the flickering light. A hand moves up and down the leg. Suddenly the body moves, and the curtain moves away, and the man is met with a full view of what he could only assume was a figment of his imagination. Completely nude with suds all over. She's coming out of the window onto the balcony!

"Holy. Fucking. Tits, " he gruffs. He can barely make out the silhouette against the light of the window. A flash of lightning flashes in the sky and illuminates her entire body in the night. What a magnificent sight to be seen. He chuckled when he saw her jump. She got scared.

Cute.

He continues to watch until he can no longer see the flicker light through the curtain.

"DWIGHT!" he yells. A moment later a lanky man wanders into the room.

"What's up, boss?"

"Gather up a small group for tomorrow morning. There's a small town a few miles away that we haven't had the lovely opportunity to grace with our presence."

"What if it's still raining like this?" The man turns to Dwight with a stern look.

"Does it fucking matter?"

"No, you're right. Sorry Negan. I'll get right on that."

"Good. We leave mid-day." That's the good thing about being in charge. You can break your own rules.


	2. Chapter 2

A bright piercing light assaulted Regan's closed eyes. She groaned and opened her eyes.

The sun! It's out!

She bounced out of the bed and tore open the curtain. The sun is shined bright. She could feel it's warmth through the window. She closed her eyes and smiled. She felt much better after a full night's sleep. She ran back to her pack and pulled out a solar charger, and an old iPhone. She plugged the phone into the charger and laid it on the floor by the window to charge. She opened the window to see what the temperature was like outside. It was a little breezy. Too chilly for just a tee-shirt. She wanted to see what this place looked like in the sunlight. She ran back to the bed to put her boots and jacket on. She grabbed her shears and handgun from under the pillow and binoculars as she passed her pack.

She peered around and climbed out onto the balcony. There was a ladder that led up to the roof just next to the window. She climbed up to get a better view of the place. Slowly making her way across the rooftop, she went to the front of the building and took a look around. She pulled the binoculars to her eyes and spied about 30 or so of the dead wandering aimlessly around the town. A bigger group to take on alone, but spread out enough, it could work. She wondered if any of the ammunition on hand was subsonic. She had a decent vantage point to take out most of them with a rifle. Regan made her way back down to her room and searched the ammunition. She came across a pack of .22 super subsonic. She smiled and looked over at the Ruger 10/22 against the wall.

Time to clean house.

* * *

Negan continued to watch his little pixie through the telescope. She was blonde with an adorable pixie-eque cut. He liked blondes and the cut suit her well. It looked like she was sniping walkers from the rooftop. When she managed to get most of them taken care of, he watched as she climbed down to the street to take care of what was left. She must have a knife or something small, but holy FUCK was she lissome. And fast.

Probably self-defense class or some bullshit like that.

"We're ready to go, boss," Dwight said from behind him.

"About fucking time! Let's move out!" Negan turned and grabbed his jacket and weapon of choice; a baseball bat wrapped in rusty barbed wire.

"Let's go, Lucille. I found us a new playmate."

* * *

Regan walked out of the gun store, with a few more supplies in hand. Most of the ammunition and guns seemed to already be in the pharmacy. She managed to get her hands on some flint, a machete and a few other camping supplies.

As she made her way back towards the pharmacy, she noticed dust billowing in the distance. Odd, she thought. She quickened her pace to the back of the pharmacy and made her way up the fire escape. She pulled the ladder up and secured it before moving to the roof. The binoculars were up to her eyes instantly. She could see some industrial buildings in the distance, a few miles away. From the bigger building, there was a trail of dust billing from it, and it seemed to be headed toward her location.

Time to go! NOW!

Regan practically jumped off the roof to the balcony below. She threw what supplies she could find in the gun store into the room. She grabbed her phone and ran to her pack, stuffing the phone and charger into the pack. She grabbed a few boxes of 9MM for the handgun she now carried and slung the pack over her back. She wished she could take it all with, but it wasn't worth her life. There are other ways to survive out here. She left her wet clothes behind. She could find more clothes later. She went for the window but it was too late, she heard the vehicles driving up to the side of the building.

FUCK FUCK FUCK!

She heard the doors opening and closing. Someone was barking orders at everyone.

"Pan out! Let's pick this place fucking CLEAN, ladies and gentlemen! You! Stay the fuck back here and keep an eye out for her. We'll go around to the other side."

Shit! They know I'm here! HOW!?

Regan began to panic, and she can hear glass being shattered downstairs. She cautiously surveys out the window from the side of the curtain. She can see only 1 man standing by a vehicle. Waiting for her to come out. She really didn't feel like killing anyone today, but if she had to—

"Ohhhh sugar tits! Where are you, baby!?" she heard from the pharmacy below. Sugar tits!? Really!? She rolled her eyes and the ridiculous pet name. She shook her head. She didn't have a choice. It was kill or potentially be killed. She didn't want to stick around to find out. She raised the handgun and aimed out the side of the curtain and the man by the truck.

BANG! BANG! BANG! The banging sound comes from the bedroom door.

"Come on, now, baby. I know you're in there. Might as well open up the door so I can introduce myself properly."

Can't stay! Regan adjusts her pack and puts the gun away at her side.

"It's really fucking rude to keep your guests waiting, baby."

It seemed almost like slow motion. Regan flipped the curtain back and swung her legs out of the window just as the door was broken down. Before the curtain fell back, she locked eyes with the man behind the door. The intensity in his green eyes burned her to the core. He had a baseball bat in his hand and he looked mad as hell. He was wearing a leather biker type jacket and a white shirt. His hair was slicked back and his face had a sparse salt and pepper beard. Were the circumstances different, she may have found him attractive.

The curtain fell, blocking her view and Regan snapped back to reality when she heard screams from the side of the building. A distraction. She jumped for the ladder, snapping the latch and slides down with the ladder. She started to run towards the woods just outside of town when she heard gunfire. She felt the whoosh from the bullets as they flew by her. She yelped and ducked to try and avoid the barrage of bullets. She heard someone yell something, one last shot, and then nothing more. But she continued into the woods to get as far away as she can.

* * *

GOD DAMNIT!

It happened so fast. He knocked the door down and saw her pretty little ass already on her way out the window. The sun caught her hair and he finally got to see her up close. Well, closer, anyway. Her eyes were almost the color of amber in the sunlight. She was young, not a little twig, to be sure, but damn fine.

When their eye contact was broken by the falling curtain, he stomped to the window and pulled the curtain back to see her slide down the fire escape and start running. The fucking idiot guarding the truck started to shoot at her as Negan heard screams from the front of the building. Not. Fucking. Cool. Negan climbed out the window and pulled a gun from his side.

"QUIT THAT FUCKING SHIT! YOU FUCKING STUPID!?" He aimed and pulled the trigger, effectively stopping the shooting. Dwight poked his head out from the window.

"What happened?"

"Fucking idiot was shooting at my girl," Negan snorts, "He'll live. Get him the fuck out of here, and let's get going after her." Negan motioned toward the man lying on the ground holding his shoulder, groaning in pain.

"Some walkers snuck up on us in the front. No one was killed," Dwight reported. Dwight backed into the room and allowed Negan to re-enter through the window. They both look around at the stockpile the girl had found.

"God damn fucking resourceful, isn't she, Dwighty-Boy?"

"I'll say. Jesus. There's a lot of food 'n shit here."

"Mine now! Have the boys clean-out this place anything else you come across in town. You, me 'n Simon, we're going to find my little pixie who blessed us with all this fucking generosity and I will thank her appropriately."

* * *

Less than a mile up the road, Regan found a small community of houses that were just outside the town. The dead were there in smaller numbers, but she didn't want to give herself away either with bodies strewn about the place.

Think fast, think fast.

There was a small opening that led to a fenced in backyard. Decision made, she ran as fast as her feet would take her. As she ran, she pulled her pack off her back and tossed it over the fence, just before she jumped the fence. She doesn't stop, grabbing her pack as she runs toward the back door. She stopped at the door and turned to see if she attracted any attention. Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary. She turned back to the door and tried the knob. It opened.

She pulled her pack onto her shoulder and went inside. She quickly ran around the house to lock all of the doors and windows. But in her hurry to secure the house, she wasn't paying attention and as she rounded the corner from the kitchen, a walker came snarling at her from a narrow hallway. She lost her footing and fell to the floor. The walker is on her in an instant, snarling and chomping at her.

She struggled as she reached for her shears on her hip, the walker just inches from her face. The smell was bile inducing. She grasped her shears and drove them straight into the walker's temple. It instantly fell limp. She shoved the walker to the side and stood up to continue securing the house.

She stopped when she heard the sounds of trucks approaching.

SHIT!

She reached for the nearest door and opened it. There were stairs that led into a basement. She ran downstairs closing the door behind her. The basement was unfinished, but she spied a storm trap under the stairs. She ran to the trap, lifted the door and crawled inside. She shut the trap door just in time to hear footsteps above.

"Oh shit. Get the boss. She's been here. There's a dead prick here." More footsteps upstairs and silence. Regan silently prayed to not be found, or for them to leave, or for them to be killed. She closed her eyes and hugged her knees close to her body. She tried to regulate her breathing as it was becoming difficult to keep quiet.

BANG BANG, from upstairs. Regan jumped and gasped. She quickly covered her mouth. The sounds wasn't from a gun. She wasn't sure what made the horrible sound. More footsteps. Slow this time. Deliberate in their movement.

"Are you in here, baby girl?"

She could hear doors opening upstairs and the footsteps moving around the house.

"If you're here, I WILL find you. Why not just come out now? Save yourself the trouble. Trust me. You don't want ME… to find YOU first." The footsteps are close. She hears the basement door open.

"Ready or not, here I come, baby!" The footsteps slowly descend the basement stairs. Regan grasps her shears in her hand, ready to lunge when that door opened. She could hear him pacing around the basement now.

"Where or where… the fuck… is my baby gir—"

"Boss!"

"Aw for fucks sake, what now, Simon!?"

"Rick and his group are on the move to the Hilltop. Everything is in place and ready to go"

"Well hells bells, let's get this show on the road! Have a few men stay behind and keep watch around here. Come on, Lucille. Time to get a drink" Regan heard his footsteps running up the basement stairs and out of the house.

She reached over to her pack and pulled out her phone. She turned it on to check the time. It was a little after 3pm. She decided to stay where she was until dark. Never would she consider traveling at night, but she needed to distance herself from this area and get as far away from this group as possible. She looked at her battery indicator on her phone. 56%. She sighed. At least it was more than half way charged. She swiped over to the app that held all of her e-books. To help pass the time, she picked out Phillip K Dick's "Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep". Only a few sentences in, a notification popped up on her phone.

 **Birthday! Party Time! In 2 days.**

Regan sighed.

 _My birthday. Wonderful._

Has it really been almost 2 years? She remembered her last normal birthday. In the old world. Before everything went to shit. Her co-workers and friends at the bar. Drinking shots of whiskey and stuffing their faces with greasy, delicious wonderful bar food. Burgers. Oh man, did Regan remember burgers. She missed her old life. She missed cutting hair. She missed how simple things were. She wished she hadn't taken advantage of the time she had with her friends and family. She wished she had paid more attention to the news and taken the situation seriously. Perhaps she could have saved her family. Perhaps she could have saved John.

Regan flipped to the photo album on her phone and found a photo of her and John. Just days before the world ended. This person that looked back on her on the phone was not the same person anymore. Her hair was long with wavy golden curls. Her face was flushed from the alcohol and happiness. Then there was John. His fiery red hair and goatee. His amber eyes. He was her opposite in almost everything, but they worked so well together. He was kind and gentle. He didn't deserve to die the way he did.

 _And he damn sure didn't deserve to just lay there in agony while you just WATCHED IT HAPPEN!_

Regan silently sobbed into her arms. It had been months since she thought about her old life and cried about it. Why now? It was too much to think about and comprehend. Regan leaned her head back against the wall of the tiny space and drifted to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

"Come on, Regan. We need to go."

"Noooooo! Just one more shot with everyone. Come ooooon. We're having fun, babe!"

"Hun, you're drunk already. We need to go. There's more and more reports of those tweakers popping up. Let's just wait it out at home, ok?" Regan made a raspberry at John and took another shot. Her friend, Ashley, whooped and gave her a hi-five.

"John, don't be such a downer! Have one with us, for once," Ashley yelled at John. He rolled his eyes and scoffed.

"You know I don't drink, Ashley. If did, who would drive you two home?"

"Touché, sexy," Regan slurred. She leaded and wrapped her arms around John's neck. She put her head on his shoulder and deeply breathed in his scent.

"I love you so much, babe."

"I know you do. I love you, too," John mumbled into her hair as he wrapped his arm around her, "But we really need to go. Please. For me?" Regan groaned and sat up.

"Fine, you win." John smiled and hopped off his bar stool. He held her arm and helped her down from the stool. Regan stumbled a bit, but he caught her. As always. She drunkenly smiled at him. She loved him so much. She looked down at her ring. She was going to marry this man, and they were going to have little ginger haired babies. John helped her slip her coat on and led her out of the bar. Ashley waved to them both as they headed outside.

It was a chilly spring night in Chicago. Regan huddled closer to John, trying to help keep warm. He wrapped his arms around her and rubbed her arm.

"How are you cold? All that booze should be keeping you warm," John teased. Regan playfully punched him in his ribs.

"I'll have you know, I'm not THAT drunk. Just super buzzed. S'not like I do this ALL the time. Plus, you love me. So there" John sighed.

"I know you don't, and you know I do love you. But you know I don't think you NEED to do it at all. Especially if we're going to be trying for a baby soon." Regan growled and pushed away from John and stood in front of him.

"Listen, Mr. Perfect. I'm fucking tired of the guilt trips when I have a little fun. I'm not hurting anyone, so why make a big deal out of this! I'm not an alcoholic or a drug addict. This is such bullsh—"

"Oh shit! Regan, LOOK OUT!"

* * *

Regan woke with a yelp. Her breathing was labored and she was sweating. A nightmare. She grabbed her phone to check the time and battery.

3:45am. 22%.

Thank God. It should still be dark out.

She put her phone back in her pack and carefully opened the trap door. There must have been a full moon because it was not completely dark in the basement. Moonlight streamed in through the windows. She crept out of the storm trap over to the windows to take a visual assessment of the outside. There doesn't appear to be any more of the dead wandering around. No doubt, thanks to that group. She grabbed her pack and slowly makes her way up the stairs. At the top, she put her ear to the door to see if she can hear anyone outside. A dull snoring sound can be hear through the door.

Someone is here sleeping.

Regan grabbed the doorknob and slowly opened the door. The house was illuminated by the moonlight from outside. She could see a man with a rifle sleeping on the couch in the living room. Closing the door behind her, she cautiously walked to the backdoor that she had originally come through. She looked out the door window. No one or nothing in sight. She opened the door and took off for the woods. Relief flooded through her the moment she reached the protection of the heavy shroud. She slowed her pace to a fast walk. At this point, she didn't care where she was going, as long as it was away from this area. She decided should would get her bearings in a few days once she had significant distance behind her.

After a couple of miles, she sat by a wide trunk tree and proceeded to take a water bottle out of her pack. She propped herself up against the trunk and listened to the sounds of the woods, enjoying the moment of peace.

Whistle Whistle

Regan froze. She wasn't alone.

More whistles. She could hear footsteps crunching in the leaves.

The whistles grew in numbers and sound. It almost became deafening in the comparison to the silence of the woods.

Suddenly, bright lights flashed on from behind the tree. She turned and ducked down quickly. Not too far in the distance, she could see a clearing. There were some vehicles, an RV among them and a large group of people, all heavily armed. With the exception of a smaller group they had surrounded. From her hiding spot behind the tree, she watched the situation unfold. The smaller group was being forced on their knees in front of the RV. 3 more people were pulled from the back of a van and made to join them. Another from the side of the RV.

What the hell IS this?!

"Let's meet the man!" a voice shouted. Regan recognized the voice from the house. It was Simon. She felt the color drain from her face as she watched the door of the RV open and out come the man she saw at the pharmacy. A perfectly evil smile twisted across his face as he eyed everyone in front of him.

"Hi. I'm Negan."

* * *

The situation unfolded like something out of a grotesque horror movie. Regan watched in abhorrence as Negan beat 2 men to death with his baseball bat, whom he lovingly referred to as "Lucille". He now stood there, joking and laughing about it.

What a sick fuck.

Negan knelt down next to one of the group.

Rick-the leader.

Now would not be the time to make a break for it. The area was too well lit. Regan hoped this would all be over soon, and they would leave without finding her. All of sudden, Negan grabbed Rick and yanked him toward the RV.

"We'll be back! Maybe Rick will be with me. Maybe he won't." Rick was shoved into the RV, and Negan stepped in behind, slamming the door. Quiet sobbing was all that could be heard now. The sky was losing the blanket of the night. The sun was beginning to rise.

Come on! Leave. LEAVE!

Something cold and hard pressed against the back of Regan's head.

"Get the fuck up." A voice said from behind. Regan rolled her eyes and sighed. She quickly ducked her head out of the way and grabbed the wrist of the person holding The gun and yanked them to the ground, effectively removing the weapon from their hand and tossing it aside. She grabbed her shears from her hip, jumped on top of the person, and immediately put the shears to their throat. It was a man, and fear reflected in his eyes at Regan.

"Whoa whoa whoa. Easy. No need to do something stupid," he said.

"Perhaps you should've though about that before putting a gun to my head, asshole," she snarled back, "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't bleed you dry after that barbaric display by the RV, you prick."

"I could think of a few."

Regan's eyes went wide.

Simon was behind her.

She turned to look and there were 3 other men standing with him, pointing their assorted guns in her direction. The man on the ground forcefully pushed her off to the ground on her hands and knees. He quickly stood up, picked up his gun as and affixed it on Regan. Simon strut over to her and out stretched his hand.

"Give 'em here, missy. And anything else you might have," he ordered calmly. Regan didn't move.

"Don't make me take them from you." His voice was stern.

Damnit.

She tossed her shears to the side, and was almost immediately pulled up but the prick that had the gun to her head.

"You. Search her and take her stuff," Simon pointed to one of the other men standing with him. The man walked over to Regan and forcefully yanked her jacket off. She shivered against the cool morning air. The man tossed her jacket to Simon and then proceeded to search her. He pulls the handgun from her side and tossed it to the ground in front of Simon. After a few moments of being physically assaulted by the man, he pulled back.

"She's clean".

"Good. Go grab her pack by the tree there. Let's get her over with everyone else," Simon step back and half bowed toward Regan with an arm outstretched, "Ladies first." The man standing behind Regan grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the direction of the clearing.

Keep calm. Keep calm. Keep calm.

She repeated the mantra over and over in her head. She was frightened, cold and couldn't see a way out of this. The scene from earlier came closer and she could see just how barbaric it had been. There was almost nothing left of either man's head. Just mush. Her eyes turned to the group on their knees. No one looked up. Except the boy. Regan could see the hate seething in his eyes.

"She with them?" Regan turned to see a man with a crossbow walking toward her. His face was horribly deformed with what looked like a burn on his face.

"No. I think this is the one from town yesterday, Dwight. She fits the description," Simon answered.

"Well we'll let Negan decide when he comes back. Put her in the van for now." Regan was yanked again and pulled towards a black van. Her foot is caught on one of the kneeling group and she is sent tumbling to the ground. Her hand lands in something cold, wet and fleshy. She looked and saw her hand in the middle of what was left someone's head. A few of the men snickered at her. She snapped her head up and glared around.

"Fuckers," she mumbled under her breath. The door to the van is swung open. Regan is pulled to her feet.

"Shut up and get in!" She is practically thrown into the back of the van. Her bloodied hand slipped from under her as she tumbled inside. The side of her head makes hard contact with something round and cold. Regan let the darkness consume her.

* * *

Something heavy pressed against Regan. She felt like she couldn't breath.

Get it off!

Her eyes fluttered open and she was face to face with a man who was pushing himself off of her.

"Sorry," he grumbled and he sat down against the side of the van. Regan recognized him as one of the group that had been kneeling outside the RV. She couldn't see much of his face, though. His hair long stringy hair was matted to his sweat ridden face. She went to sit up, but was met with a throbbing in her head. She winced and put her hand up to where she had hit her head. Already there was a large knot and what felt like blood where contact had been made.

"Well, fucking, well. What have we here, gentleman?"

Negan.

"Did you assholes get me a present? How fucking kind of you." Regan slowly sat up and saw Negan standing at the back of the van, a bloody, fleshy Lucille on his shoulder.

"God DAMN, you're smokin HOT! Even covered in blood n'shit. You n me, we got a lot to talk about, sugar tits," he chuckled. She glared daggers at him.

"Aw come on, now, darlin'. Don't be like that. I'm doin' you a favor," his smile dissipated and was replaced a steely glare. He pointed Lucille at Regan. "And lookin at me like that is NOT fucking polite to those doin' you a favor." Regan softened her look slightly, but didn't make her fear evident. She could smell the blood on Lucille, but she refused to let this fucker see that she was afraid. The smile returned to his face and Lucille back to his shoulder. He turned and barked out orders to the men.

"Let's go home, boys!" With that, the doors of the van are slammed.

"What's yer name?" Regan turned to the man sitting beside her.

"Regan. Who are you?" She moved to sit opposite of the man.

"Names Daryl."

"What the fuck happened out there, Daryl?"

"Son of a bitch killed my friends. My family. 'Cause we don't wanna give him all our shit. Fuckin' bullshit."

"But why-" The driver's side door of the van is opened.

"Shut the fuck up back there! Anyone talks, and we pull over and let Negan decide what the fuck to do with you!" Regan and Daryl looked at each other. He shook his head and looked away. She sighed and leaned back against the side of the van.

 _What the hell have I gotten myself into?_


	4. Chapter 4

The ride to Negan's "Home" seemed unnecessarily rough. Turns were taken sharply which caused Regan and Daryl to be thrown into each other. Pot holes seemed to be hit intentionally as well, sending them both bouncing and slamming into the bed of the van.

"God damnit," Regan quietly growled as she rubbed the side of her hip that was getting pummeled inside the van. She really hoped the driver would be the one to open the door. At this point she didn't care what happened. Just as long as she got one good hit on that bastard. She looked over to Daryl. He hadn't made a sound or changed his facial expression. She wondered if he was as scared as she was.

The van began to slow. Regan tried to see her surroundings, but her vision was too distorted by a screen blocking the front of the van from the back. She heard tires on gravel and another sound above that.

The dead! Why are we slowing down!?

She started to panic, not having any way to defend herself against the dead that were outside. She looked to Daryl. He just shook his head. Suddenly, the van stopped. Daryl and Regan both went flying into the front of the van. Both of them grunted on impact. The man who drove the van, laughed as he got out. Muffled voices in the distance could be heard. The van door burst open, and there the driver stood.

"Come on assholes. We ain't got all day," the driver said, and motioned for Daryl and Regan to move forward and out of the van. Regan sighed and scooted toward the open doors.

"Aw sweetheart, what's the matter? Ride too rough for ya?" The driver then burst into laughter.

Now.

Regan snapped her foot up and made contact with the man's nose, effectively breaking it, by the almost deafening snap it had made. The man cried out and grabbed his nose immediately. Regan pushed herself out of the van and tackled him to the ground. Without missing a beat, she started to pummel the man into the gravel.

"ARE. YOU. FUCKING. KIDDING. ME. YOU. STUPID. SONOFA. BITCH!" Each word landing a new blow to his face, Regan did not stop until she was yanked off by 2 men. Another of the group walked over to Regan, ready to strike her. She didn't flinch or look away.

"Whoa! Nope! None of that fucking bullshit." The man moved aside and Negan strolled up to her.

"Now was that really fucking necessary, doll," Negan asked her, "You're being rude. Again." Negan flashed his charming smile.

"It's also fucking rude to drive like a cock-sucker and damage the goods in the process," Regan seethed, and then proceeded to spit on the man lying on the ground, "If I wanted to get beat up, I would've asked for the fucking bat."

"LUCILLE," Negan shouted, and caused Regan to jump, "Her name. Is Lucille. You'll do right to remember that." He turned and looked to the man on the ground.

"Get this piece of shit patched up. Dwighty Boy, why don't you get Daryl set up in his new digs," Negan turned to Daryl and smiled again, "I wouldn't want you to be uncomfortable while you're here." Negan turned away from Daryl. Dwight grabbed Daryl by the scruff of his shirt and dragged him away. Daryl and Regan locked eyes before he was out of sight. He was scared for her.

"Arat," Negan bellowed. A woman stepped out of the crowd. She had darker skin and short curly hair. She walked over to Negan and he whispered in her ear. Arat looked over to Regan and nods her head.

"Make sure she's taken care of. Bring her up to me in a couple hours. Simon! Bring me her stuff," Negan turned back to Regan. The intensity that stopped Regan in the pharmacy reflected in his eyes again. She couldn't tell if it was pure lust or pure malice, but it was frightening.

"I'll see you later, sugar tits." Regan clenched her teeth as Arat grabbed her and pushed her along. Regan turned to see the towering factory behind her. It looked to be well fortified. There were guards everywhere and she finally saw where the sound of the dead were coming from. Just in front of the fence. The dead were chained and piked in a great number.

Interesting deterrent.

The butt of a stock gently came into contact with the middle of Regan's back.

"Keep moving, blondie. Don't make me shoot you. Better to ask forgiveness than beg for permission." The message was crystal clear.

Arat led her down a corridor to a locker room. Inside were showers. Regan looked questioningly at Arat.

"Yeah, we have running water. Now strip down and wash. Everything you need is that locker," Arat pointed her gun to a locker across from her. For a moment, Regan didn't move. Arat sighed and rolled her eyes.

"Today, blondie. I'm not leaving, so you'd better just get used to the idea of showering in front of me." Arat motioned with her gun as if to say "Get to it!".

Regan growled and turned to the locker. She opened the locker and was rather surprised. Inside was a towel, a white terry robe-

How is there anything THIS white in the world today!?

-a bar of Dove soap, a travel shampoo and conditioner, a toothbrush and-

"TOOTHPASTE!?" Regan exclaimed and hugged the the tube to her face. Only the recent chocolate bar had made her this happy.

It really is the little things.

* * *

Regan had showered and was now being led down another corridor in the terry robe and hair wrapped in the towel on her head. She clasped her clothes to her chest, not sure what to expect from the people around her. The floor was cold, yet clean against her bare feet.

Thank God for that.

They came to a stairwell.

"Up," Arat stated. Regan and Arat climbed the stairs. At the top of the stairs there was a hallways that seemed very out of place from the rest of the compound. The walls were pained and the lighting was more sophisticated. There were doors on either side of the hallway. They passed a set of double doors. Regan could see a group of women inside doing miscellaneous tasks. Reading, drinking, gossiping.

Odd.

"Keep moving. It's the door at the end, on the left," Arat said. As they approached the door, Regan moved her hand to open the door.

"STOP," Arat whispered loudly, "Don't just open it. Jesus. Let me knock." Regan put her hand up defensively and moved out of the way. Arat knocked on the door.

"Come the fuck in!"

Arat opened the door and motioned for Regan to enter the room. They walked in and saw Negan sitting on a sofa. Regan's belongings were placed beside him, Lucille leaned against the side of the sofa. Negan was no longer wearing his jacket, just a white tee-shirt. He stood when they entered.

"Well THANK you, Arat. Take her clothes and shit and get 'em washed. She can hang out with me here. We've got a lotta shit to talk about." Arat came and yanked the ball of clothes and boots from Regan's arms. Regan turned and watched Arat walk out of the room and close the door behind her.

Regan felt the tension rise. The silence felt as if it would suffocate her. She didn't want to turn and look at him, sitting smugly on the sofa. It was pointless to run, but that didn't mean she had to make it easy for him. Negan cleared his throat in an effort to get her attention.

"How about you come sit down," he said. Regan didn't move.

"That wasn't a question, doll." She turned to him.

"If it's all the same to you, I'd rather stand where I am," she huffed back.

"Fuck that shit. Sit your ass down!" Negan bellowed. He stood up and pointed to the sofa across from him. Regan glared at him and walked over to the other sofa and sat down across from him.

"There now. See? It wasn't that hard! Well, maybe for you," Negan chuckled. Regan scoffed at the innuendo and moved her eyes to the coffee table in between them. Negan sat down and spread his arms across the back of the sofa. She could feel him staring at her, but he didn't speak. She looked up at him after a few moments.

"What?" She inquired. Negan just chuckled softly. Regan growled.

"Are you gonna spit it out, or what!? If you're gonna kill me, get it over with. No need to waste your resources, for fuck's sake." Regan scoffed, crossed her arms and legs and looked away from Negan again. She heard him get up off the sofa and the scrap of Lucille across the floor as he picked up the bat.

Here it comes. Wonder who will clean up the mess?

Negan walked and stood in front of Regan. Her heart raced in her chest. She didn't look up at him. Everything about this situation seemed wrong. Why let her get cleaned up, and use precious resources? Why even bother bringing her back? What could he possibly want!? He continued to stand there. She could feel him staring at her and it made her ridiculously uncomfortable. She didn't like not having a way to defend herself. If she had her shears or her gun, she knew she would feel more at ease.

Negan shifted and sat down RIGHT next to Regan on the sofa she occupied. Too close for comfort. She shifted and moved as far away from Negan as she could, adjusting the robe to try and provide some kind of protection for herself. He threw his head back and laughed.

"Don't fucking know what you're trying to hide from me, doll," he leaned in closer to whisper into Regan's ear, "It's not like I haven't seen it before." She quickly turned her head and was almost nose to nose with Negan.

"What the fuck are you even talking about? I don't know you! I've never seen you before the pharmacy! Even if I did, do you really think I'd willingly volunteer showing you an ounce of my skin?!" Negan shrugged and leaned back a little.

"Honey, just because the world went to shit, doesn't mean nobody's watchin. I'm sure you'll remember that next time you decide to rise that sexy ass outside in the rain." On instinct, Regan balled her fist and went to punch Negan square in the jaw. As if he anticipated the move, he grasped her fist and pinned it down on his leg. With his other hand he grabbed Lucille and moved it beside Regan's face.

"No no no. Do NOT piss me off, doll. You may be sexy as fuck, but I will NOT have you hittin me," Negan glowered and almost growled, "Settle the fuck down." Regan yanked her hand away and sat back against the arm of the sofa. Irritation coursed through her.

How the hell did he see me!?

At the sudden realization, she could feel the heat spreading to her face.

This psycho has seen me naked.

"God DAMN, that's fuckin sexy. Blushing and shit," Negan said as he stood up again. He reached and pulled the towel from Regan's head, revealing her blond damp hair.

"Hey!" she yelled.

"There now! No need for that bullshit. I like that hair on you. Suits you. Blonds really do it for me, too," his look turned to inquisitive, "Wait, you're not like, a lesbian are you?" Regan closed her eyes. She wanted to burst into laughter at the absurdity of the question. Instead, she stood up in front of Negan, and looked up into his eyes.

In almost a seductive whisper, she replied, "No Negan, I love dick just as much as you do, I'm sure."

Negan sucked in the air through his teeth and bent his face closer to Regan's and whispered back, "Baby doll, that's great to hear. But I hate to disappoint you. I love pussy, and I'd really like to opportunity to show you just how much I fucking do. I've got some time, if you'd like" It was Regan's turn to throw her head back and laugh.

"Not interested," she said, her face suddenly devoid of emotion.

"Whoo wee, you're fiesty. I like that. Now have a fucking seat," Negan motioned with Lucille to the sofa. Regan sat back down and combed her fingers through her hair. Negan walked back to the sofa across from her and sat down, setting Lucille down against the side of the sofa.

"Now then," he reached for her pack sitting beside him, "let's get started." He flipped the top of her pack open and stopped. He looked to Regan.

"Excuse the fuck outta me, but what the hell is your name, anyways?"

Ever the charmer.

"Regan. My name is Regan. Not baby doll, not sugar tits. Regan."

"But your tits looks good enough to eat, like sugar, baby doll," Negan teased. Regan planted her face into her hands.

"Just fucking get on with it. Fuck." He laughed, opened up her pack and began pulling items out. The first thing he grabbed was her phone.

"You still have a fucking phone? Does this even work?"

"That's what the solar charger is for."

"But, fucking hell, why?"

Regan sighed. "There are plenty of reasons why. I can still read my e-books, look at pictures and even watch a movie or TV show that I still have downloaded to my phone. How do you think I didn't go crazy out there on my own?"

Negan turned to look at Regan. "Just how long have you been on your own?"

She looked down at her lap, trying not to recall the people she's lost along the way.

"Since about 3 months after the world ended."


	5. Chapter 5

"You're fucking kidding me, right?" Negan grinned. He didn't think Regan was telling the truth. No way could someone survive that long alone. Everyone he knew had been with a group of some kind, at least on and off throughout the last year and a half. No one had been alone for more than a week or so.

"Do I look like I'm lying?" Regan stared hard into Negan's eyes. She was dead serious.

"Jeeeesus. So you've been on your own, ALONE for-"

"Almost 500 days." Negan let out a long whistle.

"Wow. Impressive. WELL! Let's see if this bag of shit can give me an idea as to how." Negan sat her phone down on the coffee table and began rummaging through her pack again. He pulled out some miscellaneous camping supplies; bottle of water, flint, tarp, a severely worn ziplock bag with a couple of lighters and matches, another ziplock back with a map and compass, a multi-tool, a sharpening stone and a black zip pouch.

"What the fuck is this?" Negan inquired, holding the pouch. Regan rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"How about you just fucking open it? It's not like you're NOT going to, or like I have choice in the matter."

"Well excuse the fuck out of me for trying to make some fucking conversation." Negan unzipped the pouch to reveal more shears, a straight razor a hair razor and some combs. Negan looked puzzled.

"You a hairdresser or some shit like that?"

"I was a cosmetologist and barber. I did it all. Cut, colored, shaved, waxed, massaged. If it was beauty related, I did it."

"Simon said you were using these as a weapon," Negan set the pouch down on the coffee table with the other items and leaned toward Regan.

"Only the dry cutting shears. They were just big enough to cause damage and small enough to conceal. Clearly, you've never held any or been cut them them either. They're sharp as fuck. You'll notice the blood before you feel the pain."

"Ooo. Brutal, doll. Brutal. Well, we'll make sure we get those other scissors back with it's friends here. In the meantime, " Negan leaned back against the sofa and crossed his arms, "What to do with you?"

Regan, frustrated beyond comprehension, ran her fingers through her hair. She folder her legs next to her on the sofa.

"I just want to leave. I don't want to be here, and if you're not going to kill me, why keep me here?"

"Look, I don't know if you've fucking noticed or not, but the world fucking ended and in order to make somethin in this world, we all gotta work together. I'M the one makin the machine fucking work," Negan stood, Lucille in his hand, and moved to stand behind Regan, "So now, I fucking own you. You belong to me and I haven't figured out where to put you yet. You have a part to play in this new world order, and play it you shall."

Negan firmly placed his hand on Regan's shoulder, and placed Lucille, outstretched, on the other side of Regan. She could fee the barbs poking the sleeve of the robe. Her body immediately tensed up. She felt him bend down and lean in close to her, his short beard pocking her cheek.

"See why I can't just let you fucking leave? You're mine now. You could have a simple fucking life with me, if you'd like, sugar tits. All you gotta do is say 'yes'," he whispered. Regan found it difficult to breath with him so close. Sure, he was a fucking psychotic asshole, but he smelled so good. Like leather, outdoors and a hint of fresh soap. Had it really been so long since she had human contact? 500 days? She surmised that was the only reason for her body reacting the way it was. Regan shook her head and leaned away.

"What the hell is the question you're even asking," she asked. Negan removed his hand from her shoulder and grabber her by the chin. He turned her to meet him nose to nose. Her amber eyes met his hazel-green eyes.

God Damnit! Stop touching me! Stop making me look at you!

"Be my wife, baby."

* * *

Regan sat on a bed in small room, alone, reflecting on the events of the day. She was exhausted. Maybe it was all some horrible dream and going to sleep would render her awake in the real world. She sighed and rubbed her hand over the left sleeve of the robe she still wore. She inspected the holes that were now apparent in the sleeve.

I'd really like some fucking clothes.

The room she was in might as well have been at The Ritz. It was furnished with a bed, a chair, a refrigerator, a TV with a DVD player and assorted DVDs and books on a shelf under the TV. Plenty to keep someone in the apocalypse entertained. She looked up at the small refrigerator on the floor and her stomach rumbled.

Just a snack. I don't need to owe him anymore than I already do.

Regan hopped off the bed and knelt down to open up the refrigerator. It was stocked with bottled soda, beer, water, eggs, fresh vegetables and fruits. While she would have preferred one of the chocolate bars that she once possessed, she grabbed an apple instead. She closed the door and went back to sit on the bed. She bit into the apple.

Oh my GOD, this is GOOD! So sweet!

Regan had never really liked apples before. I guess being deprived of them can make someone change their mind.

...Change their mind...

She took another bite of the apple and chuckled thinking about the audacity of the question asked of her earlier.

As if that WAS a question. Fucker was pretty much demanding it.

* * *

"You're fucking joking, right? Is that even a thing these days?"

WIFE!?

"Does it look like I'd fucking joke about something like that?" Negan tilted his head and raised a brow. He let go of Regan's chin and stood up straight, "You wouldn't have to do shit! No points, no more running around outside, worryin about the dead. Just be here. With me. In my fucking bed on occasion." He squeezed her shoulder. "All you gotta do is say yes to bein' one of my wives, and you'll get security, never have to worry about a fucking thing and the pleasure of getting the holy hell fucked out of you by yours truly."

Regan yanked her shoulder out of his grasp, ripping the robe sleeve against Lucille. She looked up at him in disbelief.

"Did you not take the hint when I said 'not interested' not five minutes ago!? And how- Wait. WIVES!? You have more than one w-" she stopped and though back to the women in the room down the hall. Her eyes went wide, "Oh. My. God. No, no and no. I won't be apart of Negan's harem brigade. Since you're keeping me fucking prisoner here, what are my other fucking options? Jesus fucking Christ."

"HEY, "Negan shouted, "I don't fucking offer this shit to every pussy walking through my door. The new world needs fucking ditch diggers too, sweetheart. I think you should consider the alternative before making a fucking hasty decision." He walked back around to the side of the sofa where Regan sat. She kept her eyes on him as he moved around her.

"So enlighten me then. What are the alternatives?" Negan leaned back and pointed Lucille at Regan.

"POINTS, BABY!" He grabbed her by the arm and made her stand in front of him. He leaned in close to her again and growled the "alternative" at her.

"You will work for me. Whatever I say you do, you do. You work, you earn points. With those points, you can get shit to survive. You don't have enough points, you don't get shit. You take anything without having enough points, you get punished. Punishments are what I want, when I want. And believe me baby, I can fuck your whole world up. Ask Dwighty boy. You saw his face, right?" Her eyes registered shock. 'Yeah that's right. I did that."

"Is that what happened to those men in the woods? Did they take from you too?"

"Look at that. You're fucking smart and catchin on quick!" Negan backed away. "So you DID see that, hm. Well, no, doll, they killed a fucking shit ton of my men, and didn't want to work for me. That's not how that shit works anymore. They rebelled, and had to fuckin pay. Now," Negan moved and sat back on the sofa opposite of Regan, "What should I make you do for me? Clean the shitters? Corral our defenses?" He scratched his beard and grinned.

"Man, I really gotta shave this shit," he grumbled to himself, "Well! I simply can NOT decide!" He stood again and walked to where his jacket lay on a bed. He pulled out a walkie an brought it to his face.

"Arat! Our guest needs an escort to her digs. Come get her."He set the walkie back down on the bed and looked at Regan.

"On my way."

Regan wrapped her arms around herself and looked down at the floor.

"What are you going to do with me?" she asked.

"I told you. I can't fucking decide right now. I'll have to fucking THINK on it some," he barked at her, "Until then, you stay where Arat puts you. You do NOT have permission to be wondering around. To make sure you don't, you get to stay in that robe for now." Regan snapped her head up to meet his gaze.

"You prick," she whispered. Negan laughed.

"You KNOW IT, BABY!"

* * *

A prick, he most certainly was. Living with the dead would've been better than the misery she was sure to endure being forced to stay here.

I'm just going to bide my time, for now. Maybe I'll get an opportunity to slip away in a few months.

A few months of hard labor wouldn't hurt. As long as she had food and water-

And clothes...

she would endure whatever he threw at her. Then disappear.

Regan finished the apple, core and all. She laid on the bed and decided to get some sleep. Arat had locked the door, so she couldn't leave. She shut her eyes and dozed off, a vision of piercing hazel-green eyes haunting her thoughts as she fell into a disturbed sleep.

* * *

Negan sat on the sofa and pondered what to do with Regan since she was so unwilling to be his wife. He needed a way to break her. He knew she wanted him. The way her face and body flushed when he was near her, her rapid breathing. She may have thought him a monster, but everyone has physical needs and being that she had been alone for over a year, he could only imagine how much she needed to get a good fuck. BUT, she had to say yes first.

Hell, she may have to BEG me for it.

Negan reached for her phone with the charger cable and solar battery charger. Maybe he could find more information in her phone to get some ideas as to who she was before the world went to shit. After all, it would be easier to break someone with the right tools, and the normal tortures wouldn't break this girl.

He tapped on the button on the side of the phone. The screen illuminated and revealed a selfie photo of a beaming Regan with her arm around the neck of the man next to her. Her hair was much longer, and somewhat curled. The woman in the photo was not the same woman who sat with him today. The man in the photo radiated happiness as well. He looked to be slightly taller than her with a broad face, short ginger hair and goatee. Negan's gaze shifted to the ring on Regan's finger.

So this must be her man. She was engaged.

He pushed the home button on the phone, and much to his surprise, the phone unlocked. No password needed. Negan frowned. There wasn't much charge left on the phone. He quickly plugged the phone into the solar charger and moved to stand by the window in the room. The phone chimed, signaling the start of charging. He smiled and moved to open the photos app, but stopped.

Too easy.

He then sought out the music app and scanned her music library. She was extremely diverse in her taste of music. Rock from all different times, pop music, metal, etc. He noticed only 1 playlist. It was named "John". He touched it to reveal a long playlist of songs. Not just love songs as he would have though. He wondered if John was her fiancee's name. He figured it had to be. It was what made sense.

Negan hit the home button again and moved to the video app to see what movies or TV shows were stored. He was pleasantly surprised. No sappy love story or chick flick bullshit. There was a couple seasons of Doctor Who, Blade Runner, Aliens, Christmas Vacation, A Clockwork Orange, The Lord of the Rings trilogy and-

You've gotta be fuckin shittin me.

50 Shades trilogy.

"Holy shit," Negan chuckled, "She's a fucking nerd!"

A potentially kinky as FUCK nerd.

Negan had the wrong idea about Regan. Here he thought because she did beauty shit that she was just like a lot of the prissy women who worked in those salons. Boy was he wrong. Her taste in music and movies was revealing a lot about who she was. He grinned and moved on to the books app.

The Odyssey, Moby Dick, Beowulf, Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep, Counter-Clock World and The Flame and the Flower.

There we go again. Some intellectual bullshit, some sci-fi and a fuckin dash of smutty romance.

Hi hit the home button again and chose the photos app. It was organized by all photos, videos, and other miscellaneous albums. Scrolling through, he found an album called "Second family". He opened it and began to flip through the photos.

They were photos of the salon she must have worked at. The photos revealed many different hairstyles on men and women alike, different people in the salon goofing around, and some of Regan herself with other people in the salon, or of her working on people. Nothing too revealing. Just the same happy woman who he saw initially when he turned on the phone.

He moved to the album named "John n me". There was a lot of photos in this album. They were all of her and this John person, her fiancee. Negan came across some vacation photos. Someplace tropical. Photos of her on the beach sun bathing in a bikini.

Now we're getting to the good shit.

Another photo from inside a hotel room. Regan was wrapped in a sheet standing on the balcony with the sun setting behind her. Her long golden hair was messy and her face looked flushed as she smiled.

Now that is the look of a thoroughly fucked woman.

The next photo was a selfie of her, still in the sheet on the balcony, with John, kissing. He too had the look of post-fucked bliss.

Negan backed out of the album and moved to the videos. Scrolling through, he picked a random video. The preview showed Regan and John out doors. Almost looked like another selfie. He touched the play button. For a few seconds, it showed Regan and John just sitting there smiling. Confused at first, Negan though the video was frozen, but Regan's hair blew in the wind.

"Did you take the picture yet, Ray?" John asked Regan. She immediately giggled and turned to John.

"I'm taking a video." John feigned shock and turned to Regan.

"You little shitheat!" John lunged at Regan who squealed in delight. The camera tumbled around and seemed to land on the ground, slightly propped up. John had Regan pinned on the ground and was kissing her deeply. Her hands in his hair, she seemed to pull him closer to intensify the kiss. John moved from her mouth to her throat. Regan's eyes closed and she arched her neck. John's hand moved up and cupped Regan's breast. She bit her bottom lip and moaned. She turned her head toward the camera and opened her eyes slightly.

"Oh shit! John! My phone!"

John stopped kissing and caressing Regan and laughed as he grabbed her phone. He brought it close to his face.

"Naughty kit kat."

The video ended.

"Now THAT. Was fucking awesome," Negan said aloud. He scrolled back up to the last video that was taken and pushed play. It was night and John was seen driving. Regan could be heard singing whatever song was on the radio. John looked over at Regan.

"Come on, Ray, not today. I've had a very stressful day. I just want to go get some Chipotle, go home and watch a movie with you."

"Awww, my poor baby. I'm sorry you had a stressful day. Anything I can do to make it better?" Regan asked from behind the camera.

"Not right this second. Let's just go get our food and go home." John sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Regan chuckled.

"Oh I think I know how I can cheer you up." The camera shifted and looked like it was set down in between the seats. Negan could see her crawling over to where John was driving.

"Regan! What are you doing?"

"Helping you to de-stress, babe."

"Can't this wait till we get home? Someone may s-" John inhaled sharply. "Aw fuck, kit kat." John could be heard breathing rapidly.

The video ended suddenly.

Negan stood there for a moment, his pants suddenly getting uncomfortably tight.

The sex kitten was blowing him!

Oh I HAVE to get this woman to come out and PLAY!

THAT was a woman! Making her man feel special, even when he was having a shitty day. Negan locked the phone and set it down by the window to finish charging. He needed to de-stress, himself. It had been a LONG day, and after what he just watched all of the sexual frustration from the day was too much. He went to his walkie.

"Dwight. Get Sherry and bring her to me," Negan demanded. There was a long pause.

"Sure thing. She'll be right there." Negan chuckled and set the walkie down on the coffee table and started to move Regan's belongings back in her pack. He picked up the pack and heard something fall on the floor. He looked down by his boot and there was the ring from the photo. He bent down and picked it up.

 _I think I'll hang onto this. This may just come in handy._


	6. Chapter 6

Negan stood in front of the mirror in his bathroom and combed his hair back.

"So what happened out there?"

He leaned back and looked into the room. Sherry stood next to the bed and adjusted her dress. Negan set his comb down and walked back into the room.

"No need for you to worry about any of that shit, Sherry. I've got this all taken care of." He paused and rubbed his beard. "Man, I really gotta shave this shit."

Sherry shifted and crossed her arms.

"That reminds me. Some of the girls are wanting to get a haircut or a trim or something. Are you ever going to be around long enough to supervise the barber with us? Since you don't trust anyone," Sherry scoffed. Negan rolled his eyes.

"Sherry, there are far more important fucking things for me to be fucking worried about right now that to stand around and watch you guys get your fucking haircut. When I have the fucking t-" He stopped.

 _Regan._

"You know what, doll. I may have JUST the answer to your prayers."

* * *

Negan handed a piece of paper to Dwight.

"There may be more needed, but for now, get whatever that shit is on the list. You'll probably have to move closer to DC to find any of this shit. But do what you gotta fucking do. I'll get you any other items needed tomorrow before you head out."

Dwight looked at the list and then back to Negan.

"Why do we need all of this?" Dwight inquired.

"It's for the girls. Get em off my fucking back about this shit. I don't have time to babysit with those fucks in Rick's group causing me all kinds of a shit storm."

Dwight mouthed an "O", folded the list and put it into his pocket.

"Alright, I'll get a truck ready for tomorrow. Simon coming with?"

Negan shook his head, "No. He's going to the hilltop tomorrow for a drop. You're in charge of this task. Don't fuck it up" He grabbed his jacket off the couch and slid it on. He grabbed Lucille and turned back to Dwight.

"Have Sherry bring me dinner in about an hour and have that barber come up here too. This fucking beard has to go. Oh! And have Arat grab a plate for the new girl. We don't want our guest going hungry. You can take care of Daryl. Give him the usual."

Dwight nodded and turned to walk out of Negan's room. When Dwight was gone, Negan pulled Regan's ring from his pocket.

 _I think I need to pay a visit to my little pixie later..._

* * *

Regan was startled awake by a banging on her door.

"'ey! I'm going to get you some food. Your door is still locked and there is someone out here. Don't try anything stuipd!" Regan recognized Arat's voice. She groaned and sat up.

 _What time is it? How long have I been asleep?_

Regan's stomach growled.

 _Impeccable timing, Arat._

Regan pushed herself off the bed and shuffled to the bathroom. She turned on the light and spied herself in the reflection of the tiny mirror. She looked like hell. Her hair was a disaster, her eyes were red and the robe she wore was twisted and distorted. She rolled her eyes and straightened the robe as best she could and ran her fingers through her hair.

 _I'd really like some fucking clothes and a comb!_

Regan heard the door open. She turned and walked back into the room.

"Arat, is it too much to ask for a damn co-" she stopped. Arat was not the one who had come through her door. A tall heavy-set man, with short shaved hair stood in front of the closed door.

"Can I help you with something?" Regan asked. The man didn't respond. He moved his eyes up and down her body and let out a long whistle. She did not like where this was headed.

 _God Damn you for taking my shears away, Negan._

"Ahem. Hello? Did Negan send you?" Regan kept trying to get him to talk, distract him if she could.

"Honey. No one sent me. I just wanted to see the new goods is all," the man drawled.

"Ok, well now you can fucking leave. Creep."

"Honey, don't you know. Saviors get to taste all the new goods that come in." The man began to loosen his belt.

 _Oh fuck this!_

"I would advise you not to continue any further," Regan threatened.

"You're a fuckin twig, honey. I could break you if I wanted to." The man laughed and jumped at Regan. She quickly moved out of his grasp.

"Whoo hoo. So you want to do this the hard way, hm?"

"Fuck you, asshole," Regan hissed.

"Aw yeah, keep fightin and spitin. You're just making me harder." Regan cringed. He lunged again, this time Regan punched him in the side of the head. The man growled in pain, but grabbed her by her hair before she could run again.

"You stupid bitch!" He threw her against a wall and quickly pinned her. Regan struggled against him, but he was too big to get away. She felt as though he were suffocating her.

"Yyyyeeeah. Not so high and mighty now, are you, bitch. I WILL get my way. I always do." He dipped his head to Regan's neck and began kissing her. Regan felt as if she would throw up. She was completely revolted by his touch. He practically slobbered on her. She continued to struggle and push him away from her.

Suddenly she felt a sharp pain as his teeth sunk into her shoulder. She went to scream, but her mouth was covered by his hand and she was silenced. She closed her mouth and felt his hand move away. Tears sprung to Regan's eyes. She didn't want this. Her fear fueled her anger. She bent her head down and used her teeth to latch onto the man's ear. He immediately let go and growled in pain. Regan yanked her head back and took his ear with her. She spit his ear on the floor and chuckled.

"You fuckin bitch!" The man grabbed her and threw her to the floor. She landed on her back. Before she could get up, he was already on top of her. He snaked his hands around her throat and squeezed. Regan began to panic.

 _Not like this. Not now. Please..._

The man lifted her up and slammed her head against the concrete floor. Regan saw stars. Her head made contact exactly where her head has struck in the van. He lifted and slammed her head a second time. She could no longer see straight. She didn't have the energy to fight. She just wanted to go to sleep. She fell limp.

"I got you now, you stupid cunt."

The man sat up, and pulled open her robe. Regan felt the cool air on her naked body. She tried to lift her arms to fight, but they were so heavy.

 _No. God damnit. NO!_

The man struggled to quickly undo his belt and unzip his pants. Just as he was about to pull them down, the sound of the door opening made him stop.

 _Please... Stop him..._

"Just WHAT in the fucking FUCK do you think you're fucking doing!?" a voice boomed. Regan closed her eyes. The sound just hurt more. Closing her eyes made her feel much better.

"Negan! I-I I swear. I-it's not wh-what it l-looks like!" The man stammered. He stood up and adjusted his falling pants.

"Then fucking enlighten me."

"I-I heard a noise! So I c-came in to check on her and s-she fucking attacked me! Look what she did to my ear!" Regan tried to open her eyes and deny what the man was saying.

"Bull...shit..." Regan groaned out, but kept her eyes closed.

"Jesus Christ! What the fuck, Tom!?" Regan heard Arat say. She must have returned.

"Arat, help Regan get covered. Get Simon here to get her to the doctor. Tommy Boy and I need to have a little chat."

 _He said my name._

"Regan. Hey, wake up. You can't sleep." Regan felt herself being covered again and Arat spoke to her, trying to keep her awake.

"Simon, I need you over at the new girls room. She's been hurt and I need help getting her to the infirmary." Arat said.

 _"On my way."_

"I-I'm... tired," Regan moaned. She felt an hand on her neck and an arm under her back. She was lifted to a sitting up position and leaned against the end of the bed. She opened her eyes slightly and saw a fuzzy Arat kneeling next to her.

"I know you're tired, but you can't go to sleep just yet. Let's get you to the doctor to get you looked at." Regan nodded in agreement.

"N-Negan?"

"I'm still here, doll. Arat and Simon are gonna get you to the doctor. Don't you fuckin worry about this dumbass piece of shit, and you damn sure better not fall asleep."

"N-no! P-please! T-this isn't-" the man pleaded.

"Excuse the fuck outta me. Did I say you could say anything? And why the fuck aren't you kneeling?"

"S-sorry."

"What the fuck happened in here?" Regan recognized Simon's voice.

"I'll go over everything later, Simon. Right now, help Arat get her to the doctor. Now."

Regan felt arms around her and her body leaving the floor. Simon was carrying her. She could no longer keep herself awake. The last thing she heard was the sound of a low pock. Like to sound of a wooden bat hitting a large baseball.

* * *

Regan opened her eyes to a room flooded with light. She was laying in a bed with an IV in her hand. She didn't recognize where she was and began to panic.

"Whoa whoa whoa. You're ok. You're safe."

Regan looked to a doorway and saw Arat standing there. She pulled a walkie to her face.

"She's awake," she said. Regan went to sit up but felt a dull uncomfortable pain in her shoulder.

"Don't sit up just yet. Wait for the doctor to give the ok," Arat advised. Regan relaxed and laid back down.

"Why does my shoulder hurt so bad?" Regan asked.

"Do you not remember what happened?"

"Yeah. Bits and pieces anyways. I don't know why my shoulder is hurting, though." Arat walked to a storage cabinet, opened a drawer and pulled out a hand mirror. She then walked over to the side of the bed and handed the mirror to Regan. Regan took the mirror and held it up. On her shoulder was a large maroon-purple bruise on her shoulder.

 _The bite._

"Son-of-a-bitch," Regan whispered as she gingerly touched the bruise.

"Great to see you awake." Regan looked up and saw an older, balding gentleman in a white lab coat standing in the doorway. "How are you feeling?"

"My shoulder is sore and I feel really weak," Regan responded.

"Well that's to be expected. You've been out for a few days." The man moved from the doorway to the other side of Regan's bed. "Forgive me. My name is Carson. I'm the doctor here." He outstretched his hand to Regan. She hesitantly accepted his hand and shook it.

"How long is a few days?"

"3 days." A voice said firmly. Regan turned and saw Negan standing in the doorway, Lucille on his shoulder. Her stomach instantly turned to knots. He flashed his trademark Negan smile at her.

"How is she doin, doc?" he asked, his gaze did not leave Regan.

"Much better, now that she's awake. Get some food in her and she should be ok to leave the infirmary in a day or so."

"Good. Arat, go get her something to eat. Doc, we're good for now. You can go," Negan instructed. Arat and Dr Carson nodded and walked past him and out of the room.

Negan continued to stare at Regan. She avoided his gaze and shifted uncomfortably in the bed. She heard him walk up to bed next to her.

"Are you ok?" His voice was quiet.

"You heard the doctor. I'll be fine."

"That's not what I meant, Regan."

 _He said it again..._

"I wouldn't have had this happen had you just let me be. I was just fine on my own." Regan turned furious tear filled eyes to Negan.

"I don't allow that shit here. I don't care how many dudes or chicks they all fuck. As long as consent is given. You may think I'm an animal. But I certainly have enough respect for women to make sure they give their fucking permission to get fucked." Regan rolled her eyes.

"Ever the gentleman, Negan." Negan chuckled and bent down over Regan, his face close to hers.

"You know, doll, I REALLY like it when you say my name. You change your mind yet? 'Cause is like to make you scream it."

"Seriously? One of your men nearly rapes and would've probably killed me, and you're trying to get into my pants?" Negan sat up and put his hands up in protest.

"What can I say? I fuckin like you. That's why I can't let you leave. I told you. I own you. You work for me, or you let me take care of you."

"Then I'll work for points," Regan huffed and looked away. Negan frowned.

"Fine. You've already racked up some debt with this little hospital stay, doll, and you're gonna need food, too. So I'll just keep your shit as payment until you can pay me back."

"What?!" Regan sprung up to a sitting position. "I didn't ask for any of this! My hospital stay is on YOU! This is YOUR FAULT!" Regan shouted, instantly regretting it and her quick ascent to sitting up. She felt dizzy and weak. She closed her eyes and braced her head in her hands. She groaned.

"Can you please just leave?" She didn't want him in the room with her.

 _Yes you do._

"Not yet, we're not finished, doll," Negan growled, "Now lay the fuck back down and rest." He grabbed a chain, pulled it aside the bed and sat down. Regan laid back down and looked away from him. If he HAD to be there, she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of looking him in the eye.

"So you wanna work, huh? Fine. You'll work. And you'll work where I say you work. You didn't want to be apart of my-What did you fucking call it? The Harem Brigade?" Negan laughed. "Well then, you get to make sure they're feelin fuckin pretty for me."


	7. Chapter 7

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me," Regan groaned, "Even IF I wanted to do that, I couldn't. YOU have all of my stuff!" She rolled over to look at Negan.

"You'll have the tools you need to do your fucking job, doll. As far as clothes, I can provide you with a small loan of materials to get you started." Negan leaned in close to Regan. "Of course, were you to stay with me, you wouldn't need clothes. Not for a few days, anyways." Regan's eyes went wide and she felt heat rush through her body and to her face. He chucked at her reaction and leaned closer. His nose just barely touching hers. Regan felt his breath on her as he whispered to her.

"This. Right here. I told you, I know you want me. Your body keeps giving you away. I'm a patient man, believe it or not. It's only a matter of ti-"

Regan scooted away and rolled back over.

"Don't bet on it, sweetheart," she growled. She heard him stand out of the chair, and braced herself for anger. Instead, she heard someone come into the room.

"Negan, we're ready to head to Alexandria," Dwight said.

"You have the girls' room all set up for their new hairdresser?"

"Yeah. All set."

"Good. Tell Simon to make sure she's put to work as soon as she's able, in case I'm not back later today. She's got debt to pay off. Have someone stand guard." Regan closed her eyes and curled up on the bed. She heard Negan and Dwight leave. She rolled back over to see Arat walking in with a tray of food.

"Here," she placed the tray on Regan's lap, "You need to eat, and I need to go," Arat leaned in closer to Regan, "I know he's an asshole, but he keeps us alive. Eat. I'll see you soon." Arat turned and rushed out of the room. Regan sat up and eyed the tray at the end of the bed. She sat up and moved the tray to her lap.

A peanut butter sandwich made with fresh bread, an apple, a bag of peanuts and a cold bottle of water. Regan's stomach growled. She didn't realize how hungry she was until the food had been placed in front of her. She grabbed the sandwich and devoured it as if it were the last one on the planet.

* * *

A few hours later, a long red-haired woman showed up at the door. The man guarding the door didn't pay her any heed. She wore a short black dress and uncomfortable looking high heels. She had a bundle in her arms.

"Hi! Can I come in?" she asked.

Regan shurgged, "I suppose." The woman walked over to her and sat on the end of the bed.

"I'm Frankie."

"Regan."

"Cool name. So I heard you're going to be our hairstylist?"

 _She's one of his wives._

"Oh. I mean. I suppose I don't have much of a choice in the matter." Regan looked down at her lap. She was severely uncomfortable talking to this woman.

"Well we all have choices. I had a choice. Now here I am. Anyway. I just wanted to come say hi. Introduce myself. I know this whole thing must seem, well, odd. But we all look after each other. We have to. It makes this seem bearable." Regan raised a brow at Frankie.

"Oh jeeze. I'm sorry. Rattling on again. Either way, I have some clothes for you. Heard it through the grapevine that you didn't have any at the moment. No one wants to be walking around in a stupid hospital gown or robe all the time. Especially around these creeps," Frankie said, signaling to man by the door. Regan smiled.

"Thank you. I appreciate that. More than you realize."

"No worries. Glad to help. Also, if you need a nice massage, let me know. I was a massage therapist before the world went to shit. I'm all about trading services. No need to work for free on my account." Frankie stood up.

"I have to head back. I just wanted to extend a more...pleasant greeting." She smiled, turned and walked out. Regan turned her attention to the bundle Frankie had given her. There bundle had a pair of underwear, a sports bra a black tank top and jean shorts. Still not totally practical, but better than nothing at all. Still no shoes, though. She set the bundle aside and swung her legs over the side of the bed.

 _Time to do some walking._

Regan carefully placed her feet on the floor and pushed herself off the bed. She was able to stand just fine. No dizziness. No weakness. She took a few steps toward the door. A little wobbly, but her energy was returning. She made her way to the door where the man stood.

"I'm closing this. I need to change and I don't need you creeping on me," Regan said. The man looked at her, rolled his eyes and turned away.

"Whatever," he mumbled. Regan grabbed the door handled and closed the door. She walked back over to the bed and arranged the clothing out in front of her. She shrugged out of the hospital gown and dressed quickly, wincing when she had to raise her arms to pull the tank top over her head. There was a knock at the door as she finished dressing.

"Come in," she yelled. The door opened and in walked the doctor from earlier.

"Oh, you're up! Good. How are you feeling," he asked.

"As good as can be expected, I guess. The food helped. Shoulder is sore, a little weak still, but I can walk just fine. No dizziness." The doctor walked over, pulled out his stethoscope and began to examine Regan. She heard footsteps behind her and turned to see Arat walking into the room.

"How is she," Arat asked.

"She's doing better than expected. I'd say there's no need for her to stay in here. She can go back to her room," he said as he draped the stethoscope around his neck. Regan rolled her eyes.

"Can I get some shoes, or flip flops, or something? If I'm getting tired of walking around barefoot." Arat pulled a bag off her back, unzipped it and pulled out a pair of black doc martin boots and a pair of socks. She tossed them to Regan, who caught them against her chest.

"There you go. That should work for the time being. Hope they're your size," Arat said, grinning, "No need to get pissy about it."

"Thanks," Regan said, begrudgingly. She quickly pulled on the socks and boots. The boots were a little big, but at this point, she wasn't going to be picky.

"Alright, let's go." Arat motioned for Regan to follow.

* * *

Arat and Regan made their way down the hallway towards Regan's room. As they got closer, Regan noticed her door was open. They approached the open door, and Arat moved aside. She motioned for Regan to go in. Regan raised a brow at Arat and walked into her room. Her eyes immediately went to the box on her bed.

 _What the hell..._

She went to the bedside and opened the box. She gasped.

Inside the box, the first thing she noticed was her phone, charger cable and the solar charger connected. But there was more. A small box was nestled next to it. On the box was a photo of a portable speaker with the words "Bluetooth" written on the side.

 _A Bluetooth speaker!?_

Underneath the phone and speaker were some clothes; a couple of band tee shirts, a few pairs of jeans and...

 _Uhhhh... whoa._

Some incredibly racy, lacy and extremely risque underwear and bras in a medium satin pouch. Out of everything in the box, THIS was the least practical. Regan took all of the clothing out and set it to the side. A small card at the bottom of the box caught her eye. She picked it up. The front of the card had a simple picture on it of a sunset. She opened the card.

 _Happy Birthday, Kit Kat._

"Happy Belated Birthday, doll." Regan snapped her head behind her to see Negan leaning in her doorway, Lucille at his side. He flashed a smile.

"See? I'm not such a bad guy. I can be nice," He said. He straightened and walked over to Regan. She turned away and looked down at the care package on her bed.

"How much am I going to owe for this?" she asked quietly. Negan leaned in close to her ear.

"Baby, you don't owe me for this. This is a Birthday gift. Fair and fucking square." Regan turned and looked at Negan.

"How did you know about my birth-" She stopped.

 _My phone._

"You looked in my phone?" Negan bit his bottom lip and grinned.

"I sure as shit did. I wanted to know more about you. And boy oh fucking boy, DID I learn." Regan flushed. She knew EXACTLY what he meant.

"No need to be ashamed, kit kat. I like a women that knows what she wants." Regan closed her eyes. She was full of rage, gratitude and... lust? She couldn't help what her body did when Negan was around, and it made her even angrier.

"Don't. Call. Me. That." She whispered.

"Why fucking not? From what I've seen, you're a little sex kitten. Right now, I can see you've got your claws out, ready to fucking scratch my eyes out. But I'd fucking tread carefully, if I were you. I have no qualms about putting a collar on you and locking you in a fucking kennel until you behave." Regan felt fingers on her chin. She opened her eyes as he chin was lifted. Her gaze met Negan's.

"YOU don't get to call me that. Call me anything you want. Call be bitch for all I care. Don't call me that. EVER." She hissed. Negan squinted and licked his lips. He threw his head back and laughed.

"God damn, baby. Fuck kitten. You're a god damn TIGER. I like that. I'm gonna have fun breaking you, baby." Regan yanked her chin out of Negan's hand. "You know, you're making it REALLY fucking hard right now. Especially looking the way you do right now." Negan stepped back and ran his eyes up and down Regan, inspecting her in her new clothing.

"You got some long ass sexy legs. I think I may have to get you some more shorts, because you are lookin all kinds of fuckable right now." Regan rolled her eyes and looked away.

"You have your wives to tend to your 'manly needs'," she said. There was a moment of silence.

"Well, when you're right, you're fucking right, doll. I told you, you have to say yes. So since you're tellin me no, I must bid you fare-fucking-well. You start work tomorrow. Arat will escort you in the morning." Negan turned and walked out of the room, slamming her door.

"Fucking asshole," Regan grumbled. She looked back to the gifts on her bed. A smile crept to her lips.

 _Yeah, but he's kind of a considerate, hot, asshole._

* * *

The next morning, Arat knocked on Regan's door and came inside.

"Come on, let's go. Time to get to work," Arat said in a faux chipper voice. Regan walked out of the bathroom in the jean shorts and sports bra, brushing her teeth.

"Oh you can quit that shit, Arat," Regan said with a mouth full of toothpaste. Arat laughed.

"Shut the fuck up and hurry up. I've got shit to do too, ya know."

Regan flipped Arat the bird and turned back to the bathroom to finish brushing her teeth. A moment later she walked out of the bathroom and grabbed one of the tee shirts Negan had given her and threw it on. It was an Icarus Led Zeppelin shirt. She sat on the bed and pulled on her socks and boots.

"Ok, lead the way, your highness, "Regan said, she stood up and grabbed the satin pouch that had previously held the lingerie. Arat rolled her eyes.

"Now who's being a bitch?"

* * *

Arat led Regan to the room across from Negan's, where his wives gathered during the day. The room was rather large. There were a few couches and a coffee table on one side, a small bar and more chairs on the other side. There was a door in the back of the room and 2 more doors on the side.

"Regan!" Frankie jumped up, ran over to Regan and hugged her. "I'm so glad you made it! We're ALL in desperate need of some HAIR-apy. Get it?" Frankie laughed at her own pun. Regan smiled.

 _Jesus, that was awful._

Frankie grabber he hand and pulled her into the room. Regan looked bag to Arat, who just shrugged and walked out of the room.

"Wait till you see our set up! It's so amazing they got off of the stuff they did." Frankie pulled her towards one of the 2 doors on the side of the room and opened it. Inside was a decently sized, well lit room. A massage table was set up on one side of the room and an all-in-one salon station on the other side. Everything they needed was there. There was a shelf by the massage table that had assorted oils and towels. The salon station was equipped with assorted tools; curing iron, flat iron, hair dryer, brushes, combs, towels, and sitting on the hydraulic chair was Regan's shear case. She smiled.

"Isn't this amazing! What I wouldn't have given to have my own little set up like this before," Frankie exclaimed, "Oh! Here you go," Frankie handed a book to Regan, "To make it all official for us." Regan opened to book and saw it was an appointment book. While she felt it probably wasn't necessary, it was still a nice touch. It almost felt normal. She frowned as she remembered that this wasn't normal, and this was forced upon her.

"What's wrong?" Frankie asked. She put her hand on Regan's shoulder. Regan looked up at Frankie.

"It's nothing. You don't need to worry about it. It's great though," Regan motioned to the room around them, "We can make this work." Frankie squealed and clapped her hands.

"Yay! I'll go get your first client. You go get set up." Frankie turned and ran back into the main room. Regan walked over to the station and picked up her case of shears. She looked in the mirror. While she liked the shirt she was wearing, it seemed a bit off. She opened her case of shears, took out a pair and pulled off the shirt. Taking the shears to the shirt, she cut the collar of the shirt off, making the head opening bigger. Satisfied, she pulled the shirt back on. The neck was now wider, and could be draped off a shoulder if she wanted. She felt less restricted now and was ready to get to work.


End file.
